Grief and Love: There is no redemption
by quiet liban
Summary: We have entrusted our sister Pansy Parkinson to God's merciful keeping. Features Crabbe, Millicent and Goyle.


**Title:** Grief and Love (there is no redemption)  
**Author:** quietliban  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe and characters contained therein are property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers etc. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Summary:** We have entrusted our sister Pansy Parkinson to God's merciful keeping.  
**Characters:** Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Gregory Goyle.  
**Warning:** Character suicide.  
**Author's Notes:**  
The funeral rites were taken from the Scottish Episcopal Church website.  
I'm also a bit nervous about posting this. I'm not entirely sure why. Content matter, I suppose?

Feedback is appreciated.

**Grief and Love (there is no redemption)**

You're not exactly sure why you here today. You know that she never liked you, and you weren't the fondest of her.

You feel you owe her this. You owe her remembrance, despite every name she called you, and every selfish demand she made. You owe her, because you feel partly responsible for this. Even though you know that there is nothing you could have done to stop him from doing what he did.

You couldn't deny Draco Malfoy, he was your leader, and you were content with that. It was the way it had always been. You should have known though, that it wouldn't always be that way.

You would like to think that you're there for him, because you know that he can't be here. You wonder if he has even heard.

_We have entrusted our sister Pansy Parkinson to God's merciful keeping;_

There are four other people here besides you, the impersonal priest, and the hired casket bearers. Millicent is standing next to you. You don't why she came. She never had a great love for Pansy. You suppose she is here for you.

Gregory is standing on her other side. You know that he is only here because you are. He, after all, got the brunt of Pansy's snide remarks and dramatic demands.

There are two other people standing across from you. An elderly woman you don't know and a ministry official who isn't even dressed in black robes. The bright blue stands out in the midst of the mourning black.

_We now commit her body to the ground,_

The coffin is plain. It is not grandiose, and there is no flower arrangement. Her parents had not come to collect her body when it was found. They had merely sent a polite note informing the school and the ministry that they had disowned their only daughter.

Her parents are cruel. They didn't want to be associated with her madness. You know it was not madness that caused her to do it. You know that it was something much more dangerous to be associated with than madness.

You also know that it is something her parents could never be accused of being associated with.

_Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,_

Millicent takes your hand. You glance at her. Her face is stoic, and she is looking at where the grave has been dug. The smell of the earth fills your nostrils. No tears have fallen from her eyes.

You think it is sad that no one has cried for Pansy. The third year girl who had found her body screamed a shrill piercing scream, but no tears fell.

_In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ,_

You glance at the priest. The red little book is open between his palms and you are sure that you do not want this at your own funeral.

_Who died, was buried and rose again for us._

The sentiment behind it is nice, but neither you, nor Pansy were ever particularly nice people. You know it is wrong to think ill of the dead, but you do not think Heaven is where Pansy has gone.

_To him be glory for ever and ever._

"Amen," you all say. With the eight casket bearers it almost sounds like there are people here who are actually fond of the girl who died.

You know there aren't.

The elderly woman steps forward. She holds a bouquet of dried white roses in her arms, and drops them slowly into the grave. You watch her as she steps back. Her blue eyes meet yours, but you are at a loss to who she actually is.

Millicent steps forward too, she holds yellow carnations in her hand and drops them, watching as they fall and hit the coffin.

The priest begins to speak again.

_To the One who is able to keep you from falling,_

They were shocked by her body. You know that. You were shocked to hear that there was a body, and that it had once belonged to her

You had gone to see it. Some morbid urge had made you go out to that tower.

Her limbs were at odd angles and her short cropped hair half-covered her eyes. You could still see the blankness of her brown stare. Her spine was broken and blood trickled down from the corner of her mouth, marring her smooth white skin.

_And to bring you faultless and joyful before His glorious presence,_

You don't remember the last time you saw her. Sometimes you think it was Dumbledore's funeral, other times you think that you saw her leaving the common room. In truth, you don't want to think about it.

_To the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord,_

If you do, it only makes you think about how she must have left knowing what she was about to do. It makes you think that you could have stopped her, delayed it, but then you thought that you could have stopped Draco too.

You know that you shouldn't think about it. So you don't. You put it away quietly and squeeze Millicent's hand.

_Be glory, majesty, might and authority_

Millicent glances at you now, and she squeezes back.

You think instead about how it could be Millicent in Pansy's place, but the idea is ridiculous and you know it. Millicent is not as foolish as Pansy. Millicent is solid and grounded.

You remember when Pansy had found out Draco was missing, and when she had found out what he had done. She had screamed and yelled at you and Gregory for not telling her about Draco's plans. She had cried and slammed her fists against you. You stood still for her, and you let her hit you.

You know Millicent would never kill herself over something such as grief or love.

_For all ages past, and now and for ever._

The priest closes his red book.

_Amen._


End file.
